


if our grave was watered by the rain would roses bloom?

by orphan_account



Category: Twosetviolin
Genre: First Dates, Flowers, M/M, Mutual Pinning, Slow burn (ish?), So yeah, Soft !!, Soft Boys, breddy - Freeform, brett doesent think he’s good enough, brett is at his last year in college, classical musican eddy, just your average broke artist x classical musican au, painter brett, pinning, self doubt, slight angst, sorry i’ll stop sksjjd, tbis will get KIND OF SAD, we shall see, whatever it’s called
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-01-23 14:36:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21321802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: brett stood up with his plaint tray held tightly at his chest, the colors setting almost immediately on his hands and clothes. he pressed his glassess against his nose with his elbow, sniffing before apologizing again. “i’m so-“his words trailed off as he looked up at the man he knocked over, perfect of pose and of demeanor. he wore an oversized cream sweater with a case slugged over his left shoulder, and shoes now spotted with purple and blue.he was beautiful.-brett is a broke artist and eddy is a classical musician.
Relationships: Eddy Chen/Brett Yang
Comments: 10
Kudos: 24





	if our grave was watered by the rain would roses bloom?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [peppermintgrape](https://archiveofourown.org/users/peppermintgrape/gifts).

> title and chapter title from six feet under by billie eilish 
> 
> dedicated to peppermint grace their writing is flawless i-

there was something serene in the way the purples met with the off white grays, blending softly against the haired paintbrush as they pressed into wrinkled white paper.

brett chewed on the pink of his bottom lip, pressing his glassess against the bridge of his rosy nose before glancing back up at the lavender plant as it danced with the wind in the bitter cold. 

he tugged his hood over his disheveled hair, the black hoodie doing little to warm him. he dipped his paintbrush in the black, tracing the soft edge against the outer rim of a leaf. 

one side effect of being a broke college artist is terrible posture, which leads to terrible balance. 

he fell back on somebody’s leg, his painting and mind dropping in the proccess. a wine red blush colored over brett’s pale cheeks as he mumbled a string of apologies as the man he knocked over stood up. 

shades of purple and white were scattered all over the concrete, causing it to look like that galaxy dreamers supposedly thought about at night. 

brett stood up with his plaint tray held tightly at his chest, the colors setting almost immediately on his hands and clothes. he pressed his glassess against his nose with his elbow, sniffing before apologizing again. “i’m so-“ 

his words trailed off as he looked up at the man he knocked over, perfect of pose and of demeanor. he wore an oversized cream sweater with a case slugged over his left shoulder, and shoes now spotted with purple and blue. 

he was beautiful. 

“at a loss for words, are you?” the man teased, holding out the smudged painting with a soft smirk tugging at his tulip shaded lips. 

brett let out an exasperated, shaky laugh before taking the painting and holding it between his middle and index finger. 

“it’s nice.” 

“what is?”

“the bench, what do you think?” the joyful expression on the mans face had yet to shatter, his earth brown eyes glistening with mischief and sarcasm. 

brett looked down at his torn converse, mumbling another thank you as a soft smile broke through his nervous expression. his aching heart sped up into his throat, causing his words to tremble against the crisp air.

“there you go.” 

the man walked away, leaving brett speechless. 

he watched as the stranger adjusted the strap on his violin case, his movements so swift that it must have taken years to master. 

classical musicians, they’re too much.


End file.
